


In Sickness

by SurelyHeavenWaits



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-25 22:59:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9850580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SurelyHeavenWaits/pseuds/SurelyHeavenWaits
Summary: Prompt fill for the kinkmeme!"I have the flu and I feel like shit so I wanna see a fic where Ignis has the flu but he's like "Sick? Preposterous, I don't have time to be sick!"+Gladio has to carry Ignis out of a meeting because he refused to rest and fell asleep++Everyone else thinks the image of Gladio carrying a sleeping Ignis is totally adorable"Ignis comes down with the flu. Gladio steps in to help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was also sick with the flu while writing this, so it is unbeta'd and possibly full of typos but here, have some sick day fluff!

“Sick? Preposterous! I don’t have time to be sick! I have three meetings to attend and reports to prepare for Noctis to read before he gets out of school this afternoon.”

Gladio deigned not to answer. He merely cocked one bushy eyebrow, crossed his arms over his broad chest, and let Ignis’ wet cough fill the silence between them. Silently, he passed over a handkerchief that he found abandoned on the counter top, a testament by itself to Ignis’ poor health as the man was notorious for his impeccable housekeeping, and waited patiently for the violent hacking to stop.

There was a mild flush to the shorter man’s face by the time the coughing fit passed but it could just has easily have been a blush of embarrassment rather than a fever. Or so Gladio was sure that Ignis was telling himself, even as the man’s hand shook as he hastily crammed the handkerchief in the pocket of his vest.

And that was another thing, the bigger man noted quietly. Ignis Scientia had never, not in all the many years that Gladio had known him, never once left his rooms in less than perfect condition. His attire was always as impeccable as his apartment, with his fancy suits always perfectly pressed and his hair done just so. Today, he looked thoroughly unkempt. His buttons were haphazardly fastened, clearly done up with fumbling fingers, and the light purple vest clashed violently with the dark red dress shirt beneath. His slacks were wrinkled and twisted slightly to the side, and his socks were a garish pink, he was pretty sure those were Prompto’s, above the sneakers that he never wore. Even so, he wore the look of determination that Gladio knew so well, although the man generally directed it towards him in the training rooms, or when they argued over their wildly differing methods concerning teaching their mutual charge. The look was ruined when his nose crinkled, his green eyes watered, and Gladio barely thrust the hankie back at him before Ignis sneezed a decidedly disgusting wad of snot into the soiled fabric.

“Well. Perhaps I have a touch of a cold but it is nothing that I can’t manage,” already his voice sounded congested, rough and a little hoarse. Again, Gladio remained quiet as his fingers deftly unfastened the buttons on Ignis’ vest and slid the fabric to the floor. Ignoring the protests spewing from his dry and cracked lips, Gladio bent to shift his pants in the proper direction then tug their hems down over the bright socks. He rose just as silently, with that eyebrow raised again. “Gladio, you do worry far too much.”

“After you,” Gladio told Ignis, gesturing towards the door. Ignis sputtered, obviously expecting more of a fight from his partner. When no fight came, the advisor smiled weakly in relief.

 

 

Obviously, Ignis had not considered the possibility that Gladio meant to follow him around all day. Nor did he consider the thought that he might truly be sick. The first meeting went smoothly, the second one slightly less so but by the time the third meeting was set to begin, Ignis could barely breathe through the rattle in his chest and the congestion in his nose. His limbs felt heavy and weak and he was certain that the flush in his face was a fever. From the looks of the other attendees, he looked nearly as miserable as he felt.

“I am fine, please do go on,” he reassured the person speaking to him. The accountant, or gardener, or chef, honestly he could not hear the introductions through the fluid building up in his ears, nodded doubtfully at him and continued on. For a moment, there were two of the men nodding at him but then he blinked hard and the image righted itself. He had nearly forgotten Gladio’s presence behind him, until the man shoved a bottle of water into his weak grasp. Ignis smiled tremblingly up at the man, and said, “I do believe you were right, love,” before he took a long drink of water. Gladio’s brow furrowed at both the admission and public affection but Ignis waved him off as the speaker kept on talking. Discreetly, Gladio settled a hand on the back of his neck to check the temperature of his skin. The flesh was worryingly hot to the touch but Ignis seemed fine so he removed his hand.

It took Gladio a moment to realize that his head was slowly nodding forward. The man seemed to catch himself the first few times, jerking back to awareness, until the exhaustion overwhelmed him completely and his head rested gently against the wood table. Soft, congested snores forced their way from his nose and the meeting halted abruptly, in stunned amazement, as the ever impeccable, nearly invincible Ignis drooled on the table. Chaos ensued as they panicked, never before having seen the royal advisor-to-be so much as sneeze.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he’s taken care of,” Gladio told the other attendees, who crowded around as he casually hooked one arm under Ignis’ knees and the other behind his back, carefully swinging the smaller man up against his chest. Ignis’ head lolled against his neck, his hot breath raising goosebumps along the flesh there. His arms looped limply around Gladio’s neck and he instinctively buried his face against Gladio’s skin. He smiled gently and pressed a quick kiss to his sweaty forehead, ignoring the adoring coos from some of the more romantic meeting attendees. “I’m sure it’s just the flu but you know how he is, always too stubborn to take care of himself.”

“Luckily, he has you to take care of him,” one of the newer advisors tittered from the back of the group. He was looking at the couple the way Iris watched those romance movies (the ones that he would never admit to watching with her) and Gladio couldn’t help the smirk that twitched on his lips as he carried Ignis out the door and back to his own room. He was pretty sure more than a few of the attendees sighed enviously at the sight.

 

 

The next few hours were rough for both of them. Gladio had texted Noct to let him know that Ignis was sick and wouldn’t be there to pick him up from school, and after being assured that his friend and advisor was okay, the prince replied, “K, I’ll be with Prompto.”

Ignis was, generally, a horrible patient. Used to being the caretaker, he often fought against doctor’s orders and refused to rest. This time, however, Ignis lay limply against the fluffy pillows on Gladio’s giant bed, and watched through glazed eyes as Gladio set up a bowl of warm broth, several bottles of water, and a bottle of medicine.

“All right, Iggy, I’m going to need you to sit up for a sec,” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed. Ignis glanced up at him helplessly, too weak even to move. Gladio sighed, “I hate to say I told you so but if you had listened yesterday when I told you that you sounded sick, we could have probably avoided this. I know you didn’t eat lunch either, and that definitely didn’t help.”

He continued to scold his partner gently as he scooped an arm around his shoulders and helped him sit up against the mountain of pillows that Gladio kept on the bed. Spooning the broth into his mouth was far too easy, Ignis generally refused such treatment of himself, preferring to suffer in solitude. With his eyes glazed over and nearly shut, fever high on his cheeks and his hair damp with sweat against his forehead, Gladio didn’t think the man was even capable of arguing, let alone resisting the broth that trickled soothingly down his sore throat. Between careful sips, he let his body rest limply against Gladio, as if even that tiny effort exhausted all of his energy.

“I just wish you wouldn’t run yourself so ragged,” he sighed as he pressed his lips to burning skin. Ignis merely hummed incoherently in reply as Gladio gently eased him back on the bed, smiling to himself as the normally unflappable advisor snuggled into the pillows with a soft, but congested, exhale. So, so gently, Gladio let his fingers brush through sweat-soaked hair, his heart aching at the way his lover pressed his face up against his hand.

Over the course of the next few days, Ignis’ fever climbed high and then fell, only to rise again. Familiar with the flu, Gladio knew to expect the unpredictable temperature changes, along with the cold sweats, lethargy and bone-rattling cough. He barely left Ignis' side, always there to soothe the man when he woke from fever dreams long enough to sip water and fall back into his fitful sleep. Ignis was rarely lucid enough to speak to him for the first day, only grunting and gasping out short answers. Gladio kept cool, damp cloths nearby to clean the sweat from his skin and soothe the fever. On the third day, the fever broke completely and Gladio sank into the bed beside his lover to fall into an exhausted sleep.

 

 

“Gladio, why are we naked in your bed at 3 in the afternoon? I don’t recall even coming back to your room, let alone stripping or doing other...things.”

“That’s because I carried you here after you passed out in your last meeting four days ago, Iggy. Seeing as you were so sick from the fever that you didn’t have,” the older man mumbled into Ignis’ arm. They were entwined so closely together that he felt the embarrassed blush as it rose up his lover’s body. “We both know that I would have been the same way, Ignis, and we both know you still aren’t feeling up to leaving this room. So, let’s go back to sleep and we can get up to eat in a few hours. Royal duties can wait a while longer, especially since Noct is taking advantage of his time with Prompto.”

Knowing the other man was right and feeling no desire to leave the warm embrace of his lover, Ignis merely nuzzled his face back into Gladio’s chest and let himself doze back off, thinking all the while how grateful he was for his protective and caring boyfriend.


End file.
